I cut the phone connection with my father and give the phone to my mother, I must have, but the only thing I remember is landing on my bed and hiding my face in my pillow. Instead of crying, I'm stuck with my father's voice and words: "I love you and want to see you."

When I was little in Boston, he was never mean to me or a monster. I can't think of anything bad, except he wasn't home very much, and my mother was unhappy.

I'm like him in bad ways but not good ones. He's brave, like Cynthia. Anyone can see that from his photography of war zones, whereas I can't speak my mind or figure out basic things, like whether my thoughts are mine or from a demon.

I crush my face into the pillow. I roll onto my back and hug it to my chest. The overhead light is blinding, so I pull the damn pillow over my face.

What a horrible, horrible daughter. Everyone messes up. I should be more forgiving, even though I'm not Catholic. I should be able to stand up to my mother. "I love you and want to see you," he said, like he meant it, like he might cry!

I drift awake and realize I fell asleep. I go to my desk and scribble down a few ideas for my Joel Susugi fan fiction. None of them are big and amazing, but I don't want to forget them. They might be big and amazing in the morning.

Maybe I should create a Makiko character, not a Cynthia. I'll be strong and smart and help Joel kill demons. It's stupid, but a fake me might change the real me.

***

My father's near death experience apparently made him determined to get to know me. Before heading back to the US, he told my mother in one of their phone conversations that he will move to Tokyo in a few months. He told her that he would not give up until hearing "no" from me several times - in person.

My mother didn't believe him. She assumed he would slip back into his crazy life and forget me again.

That's not the only thing no one mentioned right away. One night, as I slaved away at schoolwork, the creepy feeling I was being watched broke my concentration. Sure enough, Sophia was in the doorway with that picture book biography of my father under her pointy chin.

"I saw him in the school cafeteria," Sophia says. "On the first day back from vacation."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Mom saw him too. We talked to him."

I feel weird and swivel my chair back and forth a few times. Just thinking about talking to my mother about my father makes me queasy.

And there's more. He only left Japan a few days ago, but he's back in the news. This time it's not for almost dying or photojournalism. He was on an American late night talk show with a rock band. He contributed photographs to their new CD. They even wrote a song about him and named the CD for it. I've never heard of them before, but the CD is selling well in the US, and the song about my father, Vintage Rob, is becoming a hit.

"Sophia, why didn't you tell me you saw him?" I say.

"It was only a few days ago, and I am. Now." To my annoyance, she comes into the room and sits on my bed. "I secretly gave him my phone number, but he hasn't used it yet. I'll tell you when he does. I'll give him yours."

"Secretly?"

"I saw him before Mom," she says.

How all that happened is hard to picture, and my father can't contact my little sister. That would be weird. He's busy since I said no and hung up on him. He's not a rock star, but the singer of the band joked on TV that he was almost a member of the band. "What did Mom say to him in the school cafeteria?"

"Not much." Sophia smiles and bats her eyes. "Just that she hates him."

That figures. If he forgets me again, it's my fault. "Okay, thanks for telling me, Sophia. Now buzz off. I have work to do."

She gets off my bed. "Can I have another sticky note? I want to write how he's friends with rock stars. I can't believe he's your father."

I rip off a sticky note. "Goodbye."

***

I don't know how Cynthia has time to worry about runaways in Roppongi. We're better at keeping in touch than before New Year's, but I don't see her in person very often. Believe it or not, I blow off the boys too. I'm too dumb for them, or they're too smart for me.

Everyone knows that the song Vintage Rob is about Robert Pirone, but Cynthia's the only one who knows that Vintage Rob, a sort of love song-it's-hard-tell-what's-it's-about song, is about my father.

My mother pretends not to know anything, even though The Gears will tour Japan in a few months, and my father will be here too. The man I see doing interviews with the Gears does not mention that he's looking for a daughter, but he doesn't act mean or drunk or stupid either. He often gets laughs, lots of laughs.

For a sort of celebrity, my father is almost humble. Cynthia said that.

One day in March I'm working on Joel Susugi fan fiction instead of homework when I hear a knock on my door. I close my laptop and turn around. "Come in."

It's Mr. Lombardi, not Sophia.

He closes my door awkwardly. "Can I sit for a second?"

I turn my chair completely around. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I just want to... you know, it's about your father again. He's coming to Japan because of that rock band, and he's very serious about staying until you agree to see him."

I try to freeze, because I'm worried about showing too much excitement. I don't know what Mr. Lombardi tells my mother or how candidly they talk. "He'll think I'm agreeing because of the hit song and the band," I say.

"I don't think he cares if that is the reason. He just wants to see you, Makiko."

"My mother won't like it."

Mr. Lombardi glances at the closed door. "You shouldn't worry about that." His hands are folded between his knees. He leans forward. His shoulders nearly touch his ears. "Your father tracked me down and contacted me at work. He's really moving to Tokyo, Makiko. I want your permission to call him back. Let's see what we can arrange, okay?"

I keep my face still, but I'm used to hiding excitement and feelings. I'm a frog princess who has just been kissed. My whole life could change. "Okay," I say, as if I'm giving in.

He smiles. "Good." When he gets off the bed, Mr. Lombardi kisses the top of my head. "I love you, Makiko, and I think getting to know your father will be good for you. You keep so much inside. It troubles me."

He leaves the room, and I can't help thinking that I love him too.

Do you think Mr. Lombardi is right? Will getting to know her father be good for her?

Makiko will face other troubles soon. Should I move that forward, or is this conflict about her father and the hints about the demon and the Yakuza enough?

Thank you for reading. And please, if you want and like, star away.